


So Good

by dadvans



Series: maritime boys [1]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Age Difference, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 00:13:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21485164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dadvans/pseuds/dadvans
Summary: Sid was winning. He had won. The adrenaline of holding the Stanley Cup over his head and the rush of kissing Andy tasted the exact same. All those looks, those touches, those years of Andy counting his heartbeat and showing him how to cook a chicken breast and naming all the bones in Sid’s body, all those quiet moments where they sat pressed up against each other and didn’t say anything at all were building to this victorious moment where they could finally have each other.
Relationships: Sidney Crosby/Andy O'Brien
Series: maritime boys [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548628
Comments: 19
Kudos: 149





	So Good

**Author's Note:**

> Sid and Andy's first time, as expanded on from this scene in [Say When](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21020792):
>
>> “No, I’m telling it, here’s what happened—” Andy cut him off. The oil on the stove was starting to crackle, and he brought his plate of fish over to drop them in. “We were driving up from Pitt back home a few weeks after the win, and we were on the stretch of the One where we kept losing radio signals, so we were joking like you do sometimes, and making up fake radio shit, and I was doing this dumb—”
>> 
>> “—it was so fucking funny—”
>> 
>> “—sportscaster voice, and keep in mind, Sid was driving—and I asked him in this stupid voice, making fun of all these guys he’d been doing press with for the past month, ‘So, Sid the Kid, you’re the youngest captain to ever hoist the Stanley Cup, what are you going to do next?’ And I shit you not, he doesn’t even slow down, and maybe it was just because there was no one else on the road ahead of us, but still—he looked over at me, and I was looking at him, and he uh, grabbed my face and kissed me while driving, just hard and fast.”
>> 
>> Sid was watching Andy tell the story, arms crossed over his chest, his whole face long gone red, delighted. “Andy was like, ‘what the hell was that?’ And I was like, ‘that’s what I wanted to do next.’”
>> 
>> “Are you fucking serious?” Nate whistled. “Sid, those are some moves.” 
>> 
>> Sid scrunched his nose up a little at the thought. “Nah, they’re not. I don’t have moves. I just know what I want and go for it. Anyway, we stopped at a cheap motel in New Brunswick and fooled around for a night."

Sid had been testing Andy’s limits for years, and if Andy claimed to not notice, well, he was a fucking liar. Andy had let Sid lean against him for too long, take up his space, crash at his apartment and fall asleep in his bed, hold him in a hug for those extra five seconds that meant something. Sometimes Andy would take his pulse, but hold onto his wrist after the minute was up, and he’d look Sid in the eyes, licking his lips. Sometimes Andy would be directly on top of Sid, acting as resistance or pushing him into a stretch, and in a moment of silence his gaze would flicker from Sid’s left eye to his right, like he was thinking of asking for permission to lean in closer. Sid had been looking at Andy his entire life, but a few years ago, Andy had started to look back. Sid was absolutely sure. If Andy had hangups, it wasn’t about being gay, and it wasn’t about not wanting Sid; Sid knew him too well for that. 

Andy’s hands had been shaking when he fumbled for his wallet and got out of the passenger seat while Sid idled in park outside the hotel entrance. Sid had always been headstrong, but Andy was just plain _strong_, and it was weird to see him nervous. It was weird to see him act so unsure about something that Sid had never been more sure of in his life. 

He waited there, clicking through playlists on his iPod. Andy had told him to stay in the car, and he knew why, but Andy seemed so uncharacteristically shaken that Sid hated him being out of his sight. If it were up to him, he would have pulled over to the side of the highway and dragged Andy down to some overgrown thicket of trees like they were going to take a piss and blown him right there in the late evening twilight, backed him up against the white bark of a birch tree rough and greedy. Andy was a game Sid had been trying to win. He couldn’t lose now, now that he had kissed Andy; now that Andy had kissed him back, brief but for real. 

The passenger side door opened and closed again, and Sid dropped his iPod. Andy handed him a plastic room key. “You’re 211, I’m 213.”

Sid put the car into drive, pulling forward to find someplace off the side of the hotel to park. “You got us separate rooms?” 

“Yeah? What else would I get, you want to get caught checking into some single king suite with another man?” 

“You’re not _another man_, you’re my trainer, people know that,” Sid replied. He turned right and found a parking space near the back exit. “More people would question me staying at a Comfort Inn. You could’ve just, I don’t know, asked for a double.”

“Well, I didn’t.” Andy grabbed the backpack at his feet with his basic toiletries and a spare change of clothes. “You need me to get anything out of the back for you?”

“No,” Sid said. Andy moved to get out, and Sid finally grabbed him to slow him down for a second. “Hey. So. Your room or mine?” 

The sun was almost all the way down now, sky reduced to a deep violet from the hour or so ago when Sid had almost run them both off the road kissing Andy. Andy’s eyes looked black in the dark, all the perfect edges of his face traced with the light from a nearby streetlamp. Was he scared? Did he change his mind? He wanted this, Sid knew, there was no way he couldn’t.

Andy took a deep breath. “Yours.” 

The hotel was quiet, and Sid was thankful. They didn’t run into anyone taking the stairs up to their floor. Andy tried to bypass Sid’s room for his own, but Sid reached out and gently tugged him inside by the hand before he could back out. 

“You should probably call your folks and let them know—” Andy tried to say, but Sid had him up against the wall and was kissing him again before the door was all the way closed behind them. Andy gasped, tense, then melted into it. His backpack fell from his grip, and his hands came down easily to rest on Sid’s hips as he gave in. 

Sid was winning. He had won. The adrenaline of holding the Stanley Cup over his head and the rush of kissing Andy tasted the exact same. All those looks, those touches, those years of Andy counting his heartbeat and showing him how to cook a chicken breast and naming all the bones in Sid’s body, all those quiet moments where they sat pressed up against each other and didn’t say anything at all were building to this victorious moment where they could finally have each other. 

“I will,” Sid promised, mouth dragging from Andy’s mouth to his ear so he could suck at the lobe and breathe hot through his nose in a way he knew would make Andy squirm. “This is more important.”

He couldn’t stop smiling. He was smiling so wide. He loved winning. He brought his hands up to Andy’s face to hold him and kiss him again, before dragging them down his chest to feel all of him exactly how he wanted to. His pecs fit, swollen and huge, in Sid’s palms and Sid gave them a mean squeeze, thumbs grazing over his nipples. Andy shuddered and gasped into his mouth and Sid swallowed it down, triumphant. 

Andy’s fingers curled, knuckles tracing the tips of Sid’s hip bones as he bunched Sid’s shirt into his hands. He was his own brand of desperate, and Sid was so thankful, thankful to press himself into Andy and be met with equal energy, equal force. Andy’s tongue slid in and out of Sid’s mouth, heavy and thick, and Sid rocked up to meet him, savoring the burn of Andy’s five o’clock shadow and the mess of his spit. Just kissing him was making Sid hard and uncomfortable in his jeans. He closed the space between them, and Andy’s hands slid to cup his ass as he pressed his hips against Andy’s, so Andy could feel how hard he was already. 

“Fuh,” Andy said, gasping a little as their hips slotted together, his own dick fattened up enough for Sid to feel. He squeezed Sid’s ass and pulled him even tighter, rolling his hips for the friction, and it was electricity behind Sid’s eyes, crackling down his spine, catching everything on fire and melting down his organs hot and heavy to churn in his gut. He could get off right here, rutting against Andy against the hotel wall in his jeans. The thought of the mess excited him, peeling his sticky briefs down to get into bed with Andy just so he could get off again. He rocked their hips together again. 

Andy finally broke apart from him first, breathing heavy as he rested his forehead on the curve of Sid’s shoulder. He groaned a little. “This is a lot.” 

Sid snorted. “Can’t keep up?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Andy said, letting go of his ass with a spank and pushing him off. Sid got right back in his space, though, and Andy let him settle there, almost touching. “You know what I mean.”

“I’ve wanted this for a long time,” Sid said, to let Andy know that he knew what Andy meant. It was a big thing for the both of them, but Sid was just excited about it. He loved getting what he wanted, especially when he worked for it. He’d wanted and worked for this for years, put in the hours every summer. 

“Yeah,” Andy said, “I know.” He turned his head to look at the door, then to his right to look at the dark room, unlit with the exception of the light overhead. Then he stared back at Sid, the same way he looked at Sid at the end of a hard workout when Sid was asking, _one more time, one more go_ despite being at his limit. “What do you want?”

“All of it,” Sid said without thinking. “You. Everything.” 

“Yeah, but.” Andy stopped and took a heavy breath. 

“Let’s go to bed,” Sid said, before Andy could decide anything for them. He tugged Andy away from the wall by the hand. Creaming his jeans could wait for another day. “C’mon.”

He turned on a bedside lamp and toed off his shoes, before rolling onto the mattress, fumbling with his belt. 

“Eager there, champ?” Andy asked, looking down on him as he fumbled getting his own sneakers off. 

“My dick is suffocating,” Sid replied, shoving his jeans down to his ankles and kicking them off at the end of the bed. He almost moaned at the relief of it, and then parted the lip of his briefs so he could pull his dick out and get it in his fist. He _was_ eager, maybe even impatient, because Andy was still fully clothed and not in bed weighing him down. Looking up at Andy, he bit his lip and started stroking his dick dry to make a point. 

“Christ, okay,” Andy said, managing to roll his eyes as he started undoing his own belt and fly. “You’re so fucking much. You even know what you’re doing?” 

“I’ve been jerking off for twelve years, man,” Sid said, laughing and pleased, because Andy was climbing on top of him, right where Sid wanted him. 

“No, you know what I mean. You ever done this before?” Andy straddled a thigh with his knee a fraction from Sid’s balls, dick straining the fabric of his own briefs toward his hip. 

“Done what?” Andy knew he’d had sex. They’d talked about it, like any friends would, but he only knew about the occasional girl, and it had always felt more like bragging or teasing than shooting the shit when he mentioned getting laid, so they didn’t talk about it often. Andy raised an eyebrow, like he knew Sid was acting innocent on purpose. “Been with a guy? I’m twenty-one, come on.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Andy replied, watching Sid jerk himself off slow and casual. 

“I’ve been with guys,” Sid said. Andy seemed to loosen up at the answer, thankfully. “I don’t tell you everything, you know.”

“You’d probably give me a heart attack if you did,” Andy said sourly, but he smiled a little. He licked his hand and reached out, swatting at Sid’s knuckles to make a grab for Sid’s dick. “Here, let me.”

“_Oh_.” Sid couldn’t stop the noises that came out of his mouth when Andy finally leaned in and wrapped his big, spit-slick hand around Sid’s cock. He squeezed it at the base and jerked up, grip tight and tugging his foreskin up over the head wet and mean. 

“So, what have you done? What do you like?” Andy leaned in some more to get his other hand on the bedframe. He hovered over Sid close enough to kiss, but tilted his chin down to make to difficult, more intent on watching Sid’s dick twitch and spit up precome in his hand. His movements were methodical and precise, and his voice was low, professional, as if this was just another part of Sid’s body he was learning and adapting to for a summer of training. 

“Most stuff,” Sid replied, breathier than he anticipated. Andy had positioned himself in a way that made it difficult to take him in hand too, dick just out of reach. If Sid tried, his fingers could brush against the underside through the fabric. He sighed, and instead went for the hem of Andy’s shirt. “Take this off.”

“Tell me what you’ve done first,” Andy said. His grip around Sid’s dick slowed, and he started just jerking him off hard but slow, squeezing up toward the head in a way Sid found agonizing. 

“Handjobs and blowjobs through juniors, mostly.” Sid bit his lip, and his hand slid up Andy’s torso under his shirt, thumb tracing over his abs. “Last summer, though, uh. You went back up to PEI and I was in LA for a few more days by myself. Met a guy at a press event, and he let me fuck him.”

“You like it?” Andy asked, seemingly unmoved.

Sid really had. It still made hot thinking about it; the guy was on the DL, had looked great in a suit, and looked even better face down in his bed, endless back muscles that Sid could dig into. He swallowed with the memory of that guy, a name he couldn’t remember, a body he couldn’t forget. His voice was all scratchy as he continued, “Yeah. He wore me out. Let me stay the night. The next morning—next morning, before I left, I let him fuck me.”

“And?” Andy let his hand settle at the base of Sid’s dick, and he dug his fingers into the patch of pubic hair directly above it in a way that made Sid go cross-eyed for a second. “How was it?” 

It hadn’t been rough at all. Sid had been sleepy and pliant, lying on his side while he let the guy work his ass open with greasy fingers, and by the time the guy had his dick in, Sid had already come twice, completely untethered. “It was awesome.” 

“Jesus, okay,” Andy said.

“Now take off your shirt.” Sid tugged at the hem again, and Andy rolled his eyes.

“Fine.” 

He had it halfway off, fabric taut around his elbows overhead, when Sid said, “I’d let you too. If you wanted.”

“Sid.” Andy threw his shirt across the room with a little more force than necessary. Sid had always admired his body, and in the soft lamplight of the room, every inch of him looked more inviting than ever. 

Sid pushed himself up a little, enough that he could get a hand flat against Andy’s stomach, press a kiss into his hairy chest. “Not if you don’t want to.”

Andy sighed and sank down, resting back on his heels. His face didn’t give anything away, and he scrubbed at it, frustrated. “I do. Trust me when I say I do. Just not tonight. This is just, uh. This is so much for me. It’s a lot all at once.” 

Said the guy who had just been giving an excruciating, bossy hand job. Sid didn’t know how to take it. It was kind of frustrating, to say the least. He really wanted Andy to fuck him. He’d been thinking about it since getting fucked; the one thing that would make a good thing better. “Okay.” 

“I really want to,” Andy said again, like he was super sorry about it, but he didn’t say anything else, so Sid had a hard time believing him. It was killing the mood. Sid bit the inside of his lip and tried to pretend like Andy wasn’t breaking his heart because he wouldn’t fuck him. Andy was still in bed with him. That should have been enough.

“I get it,” he lied. The taste in his mouth soured. He leaned back on his elbows again. Let Andy do whatever he wanted, then. Sid wasn’t going to turn him down. He had just thought, maybe—

“Fuck, Sid, I don’t want to screw this up, okay?” Andy sounded just as upset as Sid felt. He crawled forward and pressed a sweet, slow kiss to Sid’s mouth. “I have a lot of feelings about this, and I feel stupid about them. I want to be good for you, and I want to take care of you, and believe me, I want to fuck you so bad. I know I’m not going to break you, but I can barely touch your dick without losing my entire mind. It’s so much. I don’t know how to tell you what you mean to me.” 

He closed his eyes and pressed their foreheads together, exhaling shakily, and Sid felt entirely hollowed out by him. He tilted his chin up to return Andy’s soft kiss, and readjusted himself so he could get a gentle hand there to hold him in place, pressing another soft kiss, and another. He thought he knew what Andy meant, then, and maybe it wasn’t the best time to talk about it. Talking was something they could do later. 

“Okay,” he said. “Fair. You still want to fool around? Make out, or, you know, we don’t have to do anything.”

He felt kind of stupid still having his half-hard dick out, but Andy snorted pushed his shoulder. 

“Don’t be an idiot, of course I want to fool around. Are you gonna take off your shirt for me too, or am I the only one who has to get naked?” 

Sid rolled his eyes and peeled his shirt off while Andy gazed down on him fond and approving. He threw his own shirt to the corner of the room where Andy had thrown his own. “Good?” 

“Good,” Andy said. He kissed Sid, a little firmer, a little wetter this time, tongue sliding into Sid’s mouth, and then he kissed the corner of Sid’s lips, then his jaw. “We’ll get there, you know? It’ll be so good.”

The promise of getting fucked by Andy was enough to snap Sid back into action, but so was Andy dragging his mouth down more, sucking a series of filthy kisses against Sid’s neck down to his collarbone. 

“So good,” Sid echoed, toes curling. Andy brought a hand down to find his balls and cradled them firmly in his hand. He touched Sid like he was sorry for having feelings, like he discounted the fact that Sid had feelings too, and he just wanted Sid to forget about it. He touched Sid, and he was good enough at touching Sid that Sid _could_ forget about it. His fingers traced up Sid’s balls and up his dick again to tease him back to stiff, oversensitive and eager. 

“Suck you off?” Andy asked, kissing the smooth expanse of skin above Sid’s heart, dipping his tongue out to lick his fat nipple before sucking the whole thing into his mouth. 

Sid gasped in response, and he brought a hand up to the back of Andy’s head and dug his fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Is that a yes?” His mouth was still hot on Sid’s nipple, tongue teasing the bud of his areola.

Sid nodded. “I just said you can fuck me, you think I’m gonna turn down a blowjob?”

“Just asking,” Andy said. He gave Sid’s other nipple a kiss, like he didn’t want it to feel neglected, and then he crawled down the rest of Sid and got right between his spread thighs so he could suck Sid’s cock down to the base in one smooth, practiced move. Just as smooth, he slid right back up to let Sid’s dick pop out of his mouth, glistening and eager, a thick string of drool hanging between the head and Andy’s mouth. “Okay?”

He asked the question so easily. Like Sid hadn’t been thinking about this since he was fourteen. Like Sid hadn’t imagined the hot wet heat of his mouth for years. It wasn’t okay, it was devastating. 

“Sid?” Andy asked again, tongue fat against Sid’s exposed head like he was licking caramel off a spoon. 

“It’s so good,” Sid choked out. He looked up at the ceiling a few times and blinked, trying to not think about Andy’s wet mouth open, ready to swallow him down, eager to please. All of his fantasies in the world combined weren’t as good as the real thing. “Please don’t stop.”

Andy hummed and then there it was again, the velvet soft heat of his mouth enveloping Sid’s cock, thick drool streaking down the length and getting caught in Andy’s fingers when he pulled off enough to get his hand there, too. He was a pro at sucking cock, the same way he was a pro at every skill he’d helped Sid refine. 

Sid could feel the hot pressure building in his core, wave after wave of it with each swipe of Andy’s tongue and tug of his fist. There were sloppy blowjobs and there were eager blowjobs, and then there was whatever this was: Andy on his knees in a dedicated act of worship, loving Sid with his mouth and not saying a single word.

“You’re gonna make me come,” Sid said, trying to warn him. He could feel it coming, his self-control stretched tight like a rubber band and ready to snap. He dug his fingers into Andy’s scalp to get him to stop, and glanced down to watch Andy stubbornly continue to suck him down, cheeks hollowed out and dark eyes wide open, watching Sid fall apart. “Please, Andy.”

Andy wouldn’t pull off, and Sid couldn’t help the way he fucked up into Andy’s mouth shaky and wild, chasing the sweet pull of it as he came. Andy sunk to his hilt and nursed him, taking each bruising thrust like a prize as Sid cried and cried. 

He was still heaving when Andy finally let him go and shifted up his torso again to kiss him, tasting like salty, sour spunk and musk. Sid’s dick was twitching, and every nerve in his body felt alive and bright. He welcomed Andy in, welcomed his kisses and the familiarity of being held in his strong arms. 

“Hey, hey,” Andy was saying between kisses while Sid rutted against his thigh. “You good, babe?” 

“Fuckin’ rights,” Sid slurred, pawing at his face to kiss him again, not nearly done. Andy laughed, and they made out for awhile, clumsy and loose. Andy rolled them both on their sides to get a better arm around Sid, and Sid got a knee between his legs, his hands still wanting to touch Andy everywhere. 

Eventually his hands wandered from Andy’s chest, his nipples and his stomach and his strong arms down to the jut of his hips, dipping underneath the band of his underwear toward his dick. Andy gasped at the touch, and looked down between them as Sid started to slowly return the favor. 

“I want to suck you off too, you gonna let me?” he asked, trying to make his voice sound low and heady. “I’ve blown guys before, but I never let anyone come in my mouth. I wanna taste you.” 

Andy groaned. “You keep talking like that and I’m not gonna make it. I’m old.”

“Ancient,” Sid agreed. “Is that a yes?” 

“Yeah.” Andy sighed and rolled onto his back. Sid was mesmerized for a second by the stretch of him, muscles toned and defined throughout, like living art. If you could call another man beautiful, Andy was beautiful. Sid slid his hands up and down Andy’s torso just because he could, unashamedly reverent, before finally peeling Andy’s briefs back and dragging them down toward his ankles. 

“Nice dick,” Sid said, because he wanted to make Andy laugh, and Andy did. 

“Thanks,” he replied, stroking it. His dick _was_ nice. Sid was determined to let Andy know that his dick was just as nice as the rest of him. “You gonna suck it or just compliment it all night?” 

“And you think I’m impatient,” Sid said. Andy looked like he was going to respond, but before he could, Sid got down to his stomach, nosed Andy’s hand away, and began to press kisses into soft skin of Andy’s dick up to the head. Whatever Andy would have said got caught in his throat, sucked back down in a sharp exhale. 

Sid wasn’t a gold medal cocksucker or anything, but he liked doing it. He liked the smell and the taste of dick, and he liked the mouthfeel of it. A guy made Sid suck his dick for almost an hour during his junior rookie hazing, and by the time he pushed Sid off and came on his face, Sid felt drunk on it. Guys called each other all sorts of shit on the ice, but sucking cock only ever made Sid feel powerful. Any insults thereof just slid right off of him. He could destroy any guy in the league with his mouth. 

He felt unstoppable with Andy’s dick pressed against his mouth, almost overwhelmed when he finally started to suckle on the head and play around with it, experiment, see what made Andy writhe and what made Andy moan. 

It turned out Andy liked it when Sid just lapped at his dick and breathed on it with an open mouth, panting and jerking him off hard. He liked it when Sid made out messily with the soft skin at the base, and he liked to have his balls sucked on until they were dripping with spit. By the time Sid got him to the edge, Andy was rocking his hips and digging his heels into the mattress, red in the face. 

“I’m gonna, Sid, if you want,” he said, breathing tight and rough, “if you want, it’s all for you, babe, I’m gonna come so fucking hard.” 

Sid took him in his mouth as deep as he could get and swallowed and swallowed and swallowed around every thick pulse of come, eyes watering. The noises Andy made might as well have been the roar of a stadium, unintelligible praise that Sid wanted to get lost in. He never wanted to be anywhere else than on top of Andy, gulping him down and listening to him choke and cry and say Sid’s name like it belonged to the Lord. 

“So good, babe, so good,” he was saying, tugging Sid back into his arms. “God, you’re an animal. How’d it taste?”

“Funky,” Sid said, smiling up at him. “I’ve tasted it before, you know. Just like, my own.”

“Kiss me, let me compare,” Andy said, and then they were making out again, Sid weighing Andy down into the mattress, trying to catch as much of the both of them as he could taste on his tongue. It felt really fucking silly, but Sid liked it. He liked being this person with Andy, that he _could_ be this person with Andy without judgement or fear or anything, just tender acceptance. He didn’t know what feelings Andy didn’t want to talk about earlier, but Sid knew his own unspoken feelings were a deep-rooted love that only continued to burrow deeper.

They kissed until Sid yawned, and then Andy yawned, and both of them began to fall asleep. 

“Turn off the light,” Sid said against Andy’s mouth, eyes already closed. Andy grunted but rolled over, before rolling back over to pull Sid against his chest under the blanket of darkness. Sid’s lips were red and swollen from Andy’s stubble, but he welcomed the stinging scrape of a goodnight kiss before letting himself be weighed down for good into sleep.   
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> "—And then Andy moved to Calgary about it, because he was freaked out.”
> 
> Thanks to [sevenfists](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenfists/works) for looking this over.
> 
> You can find me: [tumblr](https://dadvans.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/dadvansss)


End file.
